Black, White, Gray
by DeathRace6000
Summary: 50 words, 50 one-shots centered around Demando x Usagi.
1. Wings

_50 words, 50 __one-shots centered around Demando x Usagi. Words are from the "Gamma" set of 50 Sentences, but they are not in the same order. I'm not known for concision, so this has turned into 50 stories instead._

**I: Wings**

He awoke covered in droplets of perspiration and plagued with a bout of paranoia. The ceiling of his bedroom stared down at him apathetically as it did every night when consciousness yanked him from the night terrors, white paint devoid of any coloring that might betray any sort of emotion if walls were sentient. As he took shallow, quick breaths, respirations labored from the fear that shook him, Demando stared up at the ceiling with glassy violet eyes, utterly perplexed yet again. On the corners of his gaze blossomed visions of bas-reliefs rising beneath a golden curtain flush against the ceiling, and lines of pastel paint weaving through the canyons of indentions. The luxury clashed against the mundanity of the ceiling, and he found his heart racing from the sudden wonder of just where in the world was he. But, he managed to assuage the feeling, aware that he awoke every night disoriented in some way; this one was no different.

When he had begun to stabilize his breathing and synchronize it to a pattern better suited for a supposedly calm and level-headed man, he blinked and any sort of sumptuously decorated hallucination faded until the plain ceiling of his apartment was undoubtedly the only thing above him, presiding over the room with an inorganic eye. Everything was as it had been the day before; the world hadn't changed during the period in which he slept, albeit unsoundly. Rolling on his left side, he met the gaze of the analog clock on the nightstand, its hands hovering dangerously close to the twelve and six respectively.

12:30. It was beginning to become more of a task to immerse himself in dreams.

Reluctantly crawling out of bed, he strode towards the bathroom just a few paces in the dark from where he had attempted (and failed) to sleep peacefully. As always the light switch greeted his fingertips, never abandoning its place on the wall. The strip of bulbs installed over the large rectangular mirror flickered as their life sources rekindled in the glass prisons, subsequently casting a warm yellow glow over the small space. Without the soothing presence of darkness to conceal him, he was forced to meet his reflection's eyes in the mirror and acknowledge the incipient nature of the symbol awakening from dormant sleep on his brow.

The sigil of the Black Moon stirred on his forehead, faint gray but there all the same, reminding him that he was soon to lose the unremarkable lifestyle he had grown fond of.

Demando turned away from the mirror and flicked off the light.

Moonlight pilfered into the room from the gap between the curtains, illuminating slivers of the carpet and furniture and whatever else it could hope to touch. Cool, autumn air ghosted through the space and toyed with the ends of his hair as he returned to his bed...and to the woman in it.

The one thing he was destined to love but not have, and the one thing he had stolen anyways lie still under the rich covers adorning the mattress, oblivious to his absence. Smothered by the smoky darkness of the bedsheets, she slept as soundly as a prisoner could've, even breaths filling and emptying her lungs. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest remained constant, unaffected by the specters of chaos that had begun to enter the world, or his mind at the very least.

Paranoia, a demon he thought that he had expelled earlier, had returned with as much vehemence as it had possessed in a prior incarnation, taunting him with another mirage, but this time of two things he'd believed to be well done away with. Rushing to the bedside, he peeled back the covers gently though his hands trembled so, and unveiled his love's smooth back.

Her wings were absent from their respectful places; feathers were not sprouting from the skin concealing the bones of her shoulder blades. He sighed, partially relieved. Yet, the ghosts of the avian appendages still threatened him so.

Quietly, after he had lifted the covers to her chin, he walked towards the only source of light in the room and closed the window, severing the night air that had entered the room from the outside world. He drew the curtains back into place, destroying the light that had seeped in. With the room totally immersed in darkness, he returned to the bed.

The worries that had taken root in his mind receded when he reached out and buried his fingers in his angel's blonde tresses, pulling her to his chest. She stiffened momentarily, but then exhaled slowly and melted against his body. Smiling, Demando draped his other arm over her waist, caging her in.

She wouldn't escape, not tonight.

**End**

If all goes well, I'd like to have another one of these written by next week. I hope that you enjoyed it! Would you kindly review?

**_I am so thankful for all of my readers, and I wish each and every one of you a wonderful Thanksgiving!_**


	2. Farewells

_50 words, 50 __one-shots centered around Demando x Usagi. Words are from the "Gamma" set of 50 Sentences, but they are not in the same order. I'm not known for concision, so this has turned into 50 stories instead._

**II: Farewells**

There were no goodbyes to linger in his place when he crossed the threshold of death's door and melted into the embrace of infinite darkness. All that remained of him was silence and a hollow corpse.

His entire existence had been defined by a dearth of farewells; he lived with an absence of finality to define every last relationship that had ever been lost to him. In eighteen years, he couldn't recall once when he had parted with someone on chosen terms and paid their companionship, however temporal, a proper respect of a farewell. Everything just existed, and then promptly dissipated.

But for once, he'd _almost _gotten to say goodbye. On his dying breath, the universe had pitied him and presented him with the opportunity to bid farewell to the woman who was the kindling to the fire behind the monumental crusade he had undertaken. No, that wasn't correct, was it? The girl that had held his body as his life bled out onto the floor and the woman whom he accredited the great honor of ruining his life were not in fact the same; they'd never be.

Demando loved the young girl whose tears left his skin buzzing with the sensation of a spring rainfall, whose innate kindness slaughtered whatever hatred and impurity had imprisoned his heart. He loved her enough that even when a farewell was hovering on the tip of his tongue and his veins were becoming empty and shriveling, he had to tell her how he felt. And then all of the nothingness of the afterlife struck him.

He hadn't taken the opportunity to simply say "goodbye" when he'd lived his entire life yearning for the chance to utter that one word, to close the door behind him, to throw the last shovelful of dirt on a coffin. Instead, he'd selfishly opened another door. A confession of love was an event that could've marked the beginning of a new life, and he was embittered by the thought that he'd never be allowed to explore what lie beyond that door. Demando could've spent his days seeing the flowers he'd waited his whole life for, he could've grown old beside her, and could've watched whatever children they may have had grow old as well. But all of those thoughts were left merely dreams; he had to die instead.

He had to leave her when he was just beginning to learn what loving someone meant.

* * *

><p>There was something entirely different about witnessing the fall of a man she had only begun to acquaint herself with. There were so many questions, so many thoughts, but mostly so many tears. They dripped down her cheeks, hung at the line of her jaw, and then shattered into hundreds of other droplets on whatever surfaces they ultimately met.<p>

Usagi's arms quivered as she held the cadaver of her former enemy. The silence of the room assaulted her ears. Her body felt numb.

He was dead. He died protecting her. He'd turned on his puppeteer and saved her life at the cost of his own.

_"I really did love you." _

She shook him again, calling out his name as if somehow he'd wake up and smile at her once more. But he remained still, silent, at peace for possibly the first time in his life.

"You were supposed to stay," she whimpered. "You were supposed to go home with us."

Usagi hugged his body to her chest, ignoring the sensation of his congealed blood dumping on the front of her fuku, and the coldness of his corpse that permeated through his clothing. She swayed gently as a flower in the wind, sniffling and trying with all of her might to dam back the tears that desperately wanted to fall.

She held on for hours before she finally broke, and when she had exhausted all of her tears, she felt just as empty as the room.

**End**

I tried writing in the anime universe this time, but of course changed a few things. Thank you for reading! Would you kindly review?


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